Once again, it has been a while. Things are nearly the same as always. Our oldest has grown up, moved out, has a great job, a nice home, a great guy, and we are proud of who she is becoming. So now, we are one less than a family of seven. After lots of thought and debate and research, we decided to homeschool all the remaining kids, traditionally. At first it was like learning to walk again, or what I presume learning to walk again would feel like. It was scary and never felt like enough. Now? I have full curriculums (curricula?) for more than just their current grades, books upon books upon books, extracurricular work and activities, and so many science experiments that I could rival Bill Nye the Science Guy.

I'm dealing with grief. I lost both my mamaw and my papaw. One to cancer- my papaw, and one to alzheimer's- my mamaw. I never got to say goodbye- and not because of anyone- nothing like that. I stopped myself, out of fear. I was afraid to say goodbye. I was afraid to say love you for the last time.

I spent nearly my entire childhood in their yard and in their home, and mostly on one or the other's lap. When I got older, Sunday's were reserved at their place- just to hang out. I came over to work on homework, whenever I needed help, or needed advice. Mamaw taught me to read on her lap, reading book after book to me until I started reading to her. My papaw put a new swing set in their yard almost every year to make sure we had a safe place to play. Their yard was filled with an abundance of kittens to cuddle, and their kitchen always smelled like dinner.

I miss them. I miss them so freaking much. I miss papaw sitting on the breezeway. I miss mamaw telling me how talking to flowers helps them grow better. I miss her teaching me the names of various flowers, telling me a story about a rose bush that grew from a stick, and allowing me to plant a tree in their yard. I miss papaw giving me sound advice on all things useful from what I should unplug when I leave for a vacation to when a turkey should be taken out of the freezer to thaw. I miss hearing both of them laugh. I miss sitting on the porch, swinging and singing Christmas songs at the top of our lungs in the middle of July. I miss reciting "One dark, but moonlit night.." I miss helping prepare for papaw's famous grilled chicken and any dessert mamaw was planning. I miss life lessons with papaw. I miss the smell of his cigarettes. I miss the Schwann's man coming and mamaw ordering extra chicken patties because all the kids ate them. I miss koolaid and tang. I miss pancakes. Games of Life and Monopoly...and everyone's favorite: Mousetrap. I miss papaw snoring on the couch. I miss hugging them, because even though I am not a hugger- mamaw always hugged me extra tight- once for her and once for me. It didnt bother her at all that I wasnt good at hugs.

The childhood I had is long gone. The childhood I wanted for my kids isn't there anymore. No more are Sunday dinners, let alone family gatherings. No gathering of cousins. I never saw what the matriarch and patriarch held together until it all fell away to silence.

I had thought if I wrote out my feelings, I might feel something other than sadness...but instead I find myself staring off into space and remembering moments, books, laughter, the love yous, and all the hugs we gave.